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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655888">The Bones are Good</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx'>IntoTheRiverStyx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests/challenges/etc [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Arthurian Mythology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:54:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24655888</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I think,” Galahad's too-quiet voice still managed to shatter the silence, “that it is not a question of why can we not go back, but if we could do such a thing if we tried.”</p>
<p>There was a statement under that one, one that challenged Kay's authority and Lionel's reasoning all at once. Kay did not look angry, but he did look at Galahad, daring the Grail Knight to say something else, to add to such a bold sentiment. Galahad's eyes narrowed, the closest thing to rage that had ever dared to mar his features.</p>
<p>“He has a point,” Palamedes was the next to say something, “Even if I wanted to go back to the land that spat me out this life, I do not think I could go back to that life. It belonged to someone who did not know war or magic or what it means to succumb to something larger than what destiny promised.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Galahad/Percival (Arthurian)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Requests/challenges/etc [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Bones are Good</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/demeritus/gifts">demeritus</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was always subtle things, with Galahad. For better and for worse, one had to <i>know</i> him to know when something like a feeling dared to rise to the surface, managed to escape his iron-clad control over what he showed the world.</p>
<p>It was no different this life, this second chance they had to do better. As Percival sat across the table from Galahad, the long rectangular thing one of a few in a row, all crammed together in Guinevere's tiny farmhouse with more people than there were chairs or ability to fit at the table itself, he worried about Galahad. It was such a subtle thing, the way the corner of his right eye creased when he smiled not lining up with the left, but it was something Percival had seen only twice before on the younger Knight – something was wrong and whatever this meeting was supposed to accomplish would be no balm for.</p>
<p>They sat across from each other like this such that they may offer each other some form of comfort through glances and more meaningful Looks. Still, the table felt like a chasm that Percival wanted so desperately to cross, wanted to touch Galahad, to offer a comfort more meaningful, to receive it in return despite knowing how the world melted away every time Galahad did so much as hold his hand.</p>
<p>He tried to listen as Bedivere reviewed the world's current <i>hotspots</i>, as they had all come to call them, and Kay fielded questions about what use could they possibly be when they can barely afford to feed themselves.</p>
<p>“We all thought there would be something better awaiting us,” Kay finally snapped after someone – Percival thought it may have been Lionel – asked after why they couldn't just go back to the lives they had before they regained their memories, “and if your better is back at your flat our your shared house or where ever you'll be driving back to tonight, you are free to leave.”</p>
<p>There was a sharp, collective intake of air, the shock of Kay's declaration creating a stunned silence.</p>
<p>“I think,” Galahad's too-quiet voice still managed to shatter the silence, “that it is not a question of why can we not go back, but if we could do such a thing if we tried.”</p>
<p>There was a statement under that one, one that challenged Kay's authority and Lionel's reasoning all at once. Kay did not look angry, but he did look at Galahad, daring the Grail Knight to say something else, to add to such a bold sentiment. Galahad's eyes narrowed, the closest thing to rage that had ever dared to mar his features.</p>
<p>“He has a point,” Palamedes was the next to say something, “Even if I wanted to go back to the land that spat me out this life, I do not think I could go back to that life. It belonged to someone who did not know war or magic or what it means to succumb to something larger than what destiny promised.”</p>
<p>Arthur, seated somewhere in the middle of the press of Knights and Kings and Queens and people whose titles were dependent on the men they married, cleared his throat and rose to his feet. Despite the Once-King's refusal to sit at the end of the tables, there was no mistaking who was in charge when push came to shove. It was a different silence this time, waiting to see what Arthur had to say, waiting to see if what could have been – might still be – dismissed with a few careful words became the first crack in this new Camelot's integrity before they even managed to finish organizing.</p>
<p>“Destiny is a suggestion,” Arthur's voice wavered but his cadence was steady, “and it is choice and faith together that allow us to adhere to the suggestions it makes.”</p>
<p>Percival lowered his eyes, shame flaring in his cheeks. There was a part of him that knew Arthur was not addressing him directly, but it was too readily silenced, overtaken by images of the Fisher King's weeping wound as his servants paraded the metalworks of grail and spear and candelabra through their feast, crushed under the resurgence of fears surrounding never being able to redeem himself.</p>
<p>An outcry of overlapping voices, each more sure than the last that it was <i>their</i> thought that needed to be heard first. Overwhelmed, Percival put his elbows on the edge of the table and rested his head as low as he could, hands over his head like they could block everything out. The desire to do so redoubled the shame that he feared would never let go of his soul.</p>
<p><b>“Enough!”</b> </p>
<p>Percival's head snapped up at the shout that rose above every other voice, just in time to see a spark of fear ignite the rage in Galahad's eyes.</p>
<p>It was Lancelot – Lancelot, who had never raised voice or fist while a formal meeting was in session, Lancelot who deferred to his King first, Queen second, and himself third – who had brought the chaos to heel with a single word. The resulting force manifested as a tension that threatened to suffocate every last person in the room if someone did not do <i> something</i> to dispel it.</p>
<p>“It seems there has reached a point tonight where it would be best if the meeting was called to a close,” Kay's words were clipped, his tone so carefully measured that Percival wished the former seneschal would yell instead.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Arthur said with a heavy sigh as he sat down, a defeat near as heavy as the crown he once wore showing for everyone to see.</p>
<p>Percival raised his head slowly with just enough time to see Galahad stand up and leave the room.</p>
<p>Percival followed.</p>
<p>Galahad walked and walked on Gwen's empty farm, Percival only a small handful of steps behind him. He knew where they would wind up, mo matter how many detours and how much backtracking Galahad found.</p>
<p>Galahad finally, as Percival knew he would, sat down in the muddies rocks of the small stream that ran near the edge of the property. Percival sat down next to him, paying the mud and sharpness of the rocks no mind. He let himself lean over until his shoulder came into contact with Galahad's.</p>
<p>“I'm sorry,” Galahad said as soon as Percival leaned over, “I'm sorry.”</p>
<p>“You are forgiven,” Percival told him, reflexively, “thought I confess I do not know what you seek forgiveness for.”</p>
<p>“I just,” Galahad forced Percival's shoulder back with his own so that he could lean against Percival's chest. Almost instinctively, Percival wrapped an arm around Galahad's shoulders.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Percival told him.</p>
<p>“I love you,” Galahad sniffed and scrubbed at his nose with the back of his hand for a fraction of a moment, “I saw you hurting, saw how Arthur's thoughtless comments about destiny affected you, and yet all I could think of was getting out of there.”</p>
<p>Percival held Galahad closer and nuzzled his cheek against the top of Galahad's head.</p>
<p>“It's not fair,” Galahad continued, “that no matter if we did everything right or got everything wrong, we're all still back here,” a sob escaped, catching both of them off-guard.</p>
<p>Percival pulled Galahad against him, rocked him as Galahad's sobs became his own, their shared regrets and failures and things they'd never get to do, moments they would never get to return to such that they might see how different choices might have changed their fates, saved Camelot from her gruesome end. For these long, broken moments with the sounds of the stream and early summer bugs to accompany this sort of purge, they let themselves feel the way destiny forced the weight of Camelot's success on their too-young shoulders.</p>
<p>“I wanted to come home,” Galahad finally managed, “after the Grail was achieved, I thought I'd come home.”</p>
<p>Percival had wanted that, too, for the both of them, wanted to find out what life with Galahad by his side would be like through years and wars and whatever else life had to throw at them. And that, Percival supposed, had wounded his faith in his ability to carry out what destiny required more than the incident with the Fisher King had managed.</p>
<p>“If I'd've asked questions,” Percival's every word was unsteady, shaken into pieces as memories of the wasted lands and their King he was meant to heal, “If I hadn't let myself believe I could never be worth anything I might have known there were no chances, no coincidences, that I was there for a reason,” Percival's rambling regrets that carried an air of wishes stopped suddenly, a deep, desperate breath replacing them. He gripped Galahad tighter against him, his anchor in whatever storm they'd found themselves caught in.</p>
<p>“Maybe, if I had been better,” Percival tried again, “you never would have had to leave home in the first place.”</p>
<p>“I'm home now,” Galahad tucked himself up as small as he could against Percival's side, “I'm home now.”</p>
<p>Despite everything, Percival managed a small, honest smile. Home, he realized, was something destiny itself could not rip from them. Even with the centuries between this life and the last, the home they'd made with each other stood strong.</p>
<p>Even if this new Camelot, this less eager Round Table, this approximation of the once-near-omniscient  already wounded by the ripples of Camlann that time had done nothing to dissipate and the ghosts of memories that death itself could not keep from them, even if it failed before it had a chance to finish forming, Percival had found Home again.</p>
<p>With his home snuggled up against him, the iron-clad control melting away to a raw honesty that only love could bring out, Percival found failure much less daunting.</p>
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